I suppose I’m boarding the bandwagon by looking back at the last twelve months, but there’s a reason it’s a popular pursuit.
We like to quantify our existence through measurable gains or losses. It’s a tool to see where we’ve been and to plot where we’re going. Without some definable roadmap, we tend to wander. One day bleeds into the next, and we’re left looking for the missing months and disappearing days. But I’m not so sure that’s a bad thing.
There’s an argument to be made on both sides. Adhering to an unforgivingly regimented schedule that leaves little or no time for friends, loved ones, or creative pursuits is probably as detrimental as a life spent sinking in the quicksand of financial worry or health concerns.
Money is made and money is lost. The loop of hope and disappointment continues to spin. But what’s the big picture purpose?
I do know that as soon as health is compromised, everything else takes a distant back seat. Whether it’s the physical or mental well-being of those close to us or own bodies rebelling against our neatly-laid plans, there’s no backburner for pain…at least, not the real stuff.
On that note, I can happily report that regular work with my energy healer/acupuncturist, Jennifer, has transformed my life. There were far too many days this past year when death seemed like a viable solution to neutralize the agonizing torture that migraines inflicted on my body and mind. I was yards past the end of my rope, as anyone who had a conversation with me about the topic can attest.
The residual damage of that kind of extended trauma is still there, but every week I move closer to regaining some sense of security and a slightly tighter grip on the leash of this unpredictable beast. Awareness about how we’re wired and why our brains decide to embark on dark excursions of their own design is like a spotlight in the eyes of Gremlins. They prefer to do their work in the shadows, so it’s up to us to bathe them in light.
I will continue to carry a boulder-laden backpack of uncertainty about my overarching path and purpose, but I am finally starting to take that hike without looking for falling rocks at every turn.
One heavy-booted step at a time.
Okay, 2018…I’m ready to walk.
2 thoughts on “Closing a Door to Open an Exit”
I am so happy that you found Jennifer to help you through these excruciating spells, and that you are continuing to forge ahead with unflagging determination.
It would be wonderful to catch up with you in person soon.
Wishing you a very, very happy New Year!
Thank you, Ellen! It’s been an incredible transformation. I would love to see you at some point soon. Wishing you the happiest and healthiest new year!